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‘I think you should go left here?’ I said to Frederika. ‘I donno, it’s not really a road is it, maybe we should go back, find the right road?’ ‘Julie did say the road was bad, she didn’t say this bad, ugh take the left, … Continue reading Julie, what were you thinking?

The other night I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, had weird dreams, watched Netflix, made tea, still couldn’t sleep, messed around online, eventually smoked a small joint. I slept. And in the morning I did yoga. Cat pose, child’s pose and cobra pose. I’m … Continue reading OM

I’d rushed like crazy and was a bit pissed that the yoga instructor was late. She breezed in, all beautiful in Lululemon white, no apologies.

This is a sacred space, she said, looking directly at me. Please keep your phone out of sight. Lay down, close your eyes, breathe.

I yawned into the sacred space. An hour and a half without my phone is a long time. But hey – yoga, inner peace, mindfulness – I tucked it under my towel, lay down on my mat and assumed the corpse pose.

Death. Shavasana.

Another yogi came in. I would’ve smiled at her but actually, she slammed her mat down on top of mine, crowding me out of my own sacred yogic space.

Christ, I thought.

But I never said that because yoga is just so quiet and peaceful.

Instead I shifted up a little and reassumed the death pose.

I focused on my breathing.

The room had that heady smell – incense, perfume, deodorant, feet.

The guy with the feet was on my left. Also a bit too close. Would it be terribly unyogic of me to move across the room?

I moved.

Without my towel. Or my phone.

The class began. Tree pose, sun salutations, downward dog.

Five minutes in downward dog is a very long time. Especially when through my legs I could see the guy with the smelly feet’s penis. He wasn’t wearing Lululemon. Or underwear.

I groaned. Everyone looked at me. You’re not meant to groan during yoga. That quiet sacred space, remember.

This was not turning into a mindful experience. Especially as across the room I could see the flickering light of my phone under the towel.

It took all my power not to leap up, grab my phone and run out of the class.

I started berating myself.

Focus, Violet. Breathe through your fucking nose, Violet. Concentrate on that third eye, Violet. Stop giving the man the death stare, Violet.